


Another View From the Stairs

by jehc



Series: Miranda's Runway [10]
Category: The Devil Wears Prada (2006)
Genre: Family Fluff, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-02
Updated: 2015-07-02
Packaged: 2018-04-07 08:00:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 781
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4255614
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jehc/pseuds/jehc
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>More from with world of MRW. I know I warned everyone that these may come out of order. This is WAY out of order. So don't think that this is the end of the MRW world. It’s just the piece that came to me today. Clair is 25 and Mira 20. Mandy's daughter Cynthia is five.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Another View From the Stairs

Another View From the Stairs

The annual pause at the Met Gala was watched from the Priestly viewing spot on the balcony.

“How come everybody’s looking at her?” Five year old Cynthia asked.

Clair grinned and answered, “Because she’s the most important person in the room.”

“And the most beautiful,” Mira continued.

“And the most well dressed,” came a third rather shaky voice.

Cynthia giggled, “That’s because you picked out her dress Grammie!”

Miranda smiled at her granddaughter’s excitement. She looked proudly back at Emily as she descended to the ball room with the elegant, yet powerful, presence she learned from her former boss. At that moment Emily looked up and locked eyes with Miranda, a shadow crossed her face and it looked like tears were forming in her eyes. Miranda shook her head and gave her patented glare. Emily’s shaky smile said ‘Message received,’ as she continued on dry eyed.

At eighty-five Miranda released the final grip she had on her empire. Though she was as beautiful as ever for the last year Miranda’s vanity and Parkinson's disease kept her from public appearances. She had stopped attending all but New York’s fashion week shortly after she retired at 75, but this was her first year watching the Gala from the balcony. Clair secretly believed that she waited for Cynthia to turn five before she gave it up. Mandy Miranda's middle child and Cynthia's mother, was attending the Gala.

“Girls this is grand, I can understand why it is such a tradition.”

Miranda began to point out people and comment on their couture.

“Cynthia can you see what’s wrong with that dress?”

The child looked at Clair for help.

“Don't look at me Cindi girl.” Clair said laughing. “I fail this test every time!”

Miranda grinned and said, “Look at it closely and tell me what you see.”

“Um Grammie, I think the dress is ripped, you can almost see her boobies.”

“Breasts darling, you can see most of her breasts. If Ms. Pitt is so insecure with the rest of herself that she needs everyone to focus on her bosom she should probably get some therapy and better fashion advice.”

“Mira darling tell me what you think of Ms. Foy’s dress.”

“Let’s see,” she replied thoughtfully. “The color was a bit of a risk with her reddish hair but it accentuates her highlights and the scalloped hemline makes her look taller then she would in a full gown.”

“Full marks for both of you.” She then grinned at Clair, “Angel Girl what do you think of Ms Smith’s dress?”

“I think it’s lovely.” Her mother looked at her expectantly clearly waiting for more. “You know Randa this isn't fair. I feel like I am having a pop quiz.”

Miranda smirked, “You are dear, so get on with it.”

Clair studied the actress, “I like the dress but she doesn’t or she isn't comfortable in it, she isn't smiling.”

“Hmm,” Miranda replied. “Maybe you should take her your duckie glasses!”

The thunk, thunk of a person with a walker approaching could be heard over their laughter.  
“I hope you don't mind if I join in the fun.”

Clair jumped up and kissed her honorary Aunt on the cheek.

“Tella, I didn't know you were in New York.”

“Ah, I was invited to a party by a very dear friend. I have been sent to collect your mother. Will you accompany me to the Ritz Carlton?” Donnatella asked Miranda with a mischievous smile.

“I am guessing that dear friend’s name is Andrea and that is why she has been running around stressed and secretive for the last month.”

Donnatella nodded.

“Yes, it is a gathering of the fashion elderly. Rumor has it there will be chairs!” The two women grinned at each other.

“As Dowager Queen I suppose I should attend.” Miranda said clearly amused.

Everyone laughed. Miranda was using the latest moniker awarded her by Page Six.

“Go on Grammie it will be fun. Chanel is there.” Mira said of her infant daughter.

Donnetella gave Mira the stink eye. “I have yet to meet Chanel, such a lovely name.”

Miranda faux punched her friend on the arm.

“Leave her be, Mira wanted to honor her aunt and I told her if she named the baby Miranda I was cutting her out.”

“Yes,” Donnatella replied testily. “It makes sense to honor the head designer at the house of Versace, by naming her niece Chanel. I don't know how I missed it.”

Miranda grinned as she stood and wished her daughter and grandchildren goodnight.

“Come along Tella. If we plan it just right maybe we can get Chanel to spit up on Zoe.”


End file.
